Clockwork Warrior
by King Spoot
Summary: Sometimes, you need to knuckle down and not give up on past memories.


**]-0-[ Clockwork Warrior ]-0-[**

_I do not own Sailor Moon or Dragonball Z._

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><p>So long as a hero still breathes, carrying the legacy left by fallen father, he shall break earth under cracked and bloodied palms, always willing strained muscles to go that extra step. Never does he know peace, being incapable of feeling anything but a fight's thrill, even if ribs crack and blood flows. Sorrow, love, regret, comfort - these emotions mean little if he cannot exist. Anger, let it carry him forth, allow the fire to be his ally. Gentle as Trunks may be, as the descendant of one dead race and another soon to be, he allowed beating heart and vengeful spirit carry him far enough to protect that which remained. Half-blood, only chastised by a father mourning genocide, knew not political discourse for the universe blessed his existence as perfection. Once more, arms tensed and gut churned, barely registering in a mind's battle-ready turbulence. Grass, wet earth and chirping birds teased the senses as a memory, and for the briefest moment the future son of Vegeta believed himself to be lost in a dream. Life, so plentiful, brought emotions not felt since childhood ignorance to the world. Peace, happiness, disbelief, it all stopped the man that saw death at both ends. Pushing upright on popping knees, burrowing baggy engineering pants into the ground, he gently beheld the park's simple beauty as a soothing memory before it faded back to a battle scarred reality.<p>

Despite a peerless mother, whose intellect remained unchallenged, and a father literally bred for war, Trunks still retained enough human flaws to make mistakes. King Kai did communicate with him during and after the Cell Games, and it had been necessary to turn Ki into a telegraphic means of speaking to the other fighters, but living a life without allies, sans Gohan, caused him to grip at the memory of fighting amongst kin and allies in the other dimension, presenting a habit to not watch his flank after realizing he had become stranded outside the city limits once more. He let his guard down, and Broly took advantaged, dropping the half-blood two hundred feet from sky to ground. The power of a Legendary Super Saiyan condensed into a brutal stomp, winding the Ultra Super Saiyan, and driving him six feet deeper. Clawing at the earth, pushing himself about, he replied in kind by a one-handed Big Bang Attack, stolen from Vegeta as a son adoring his father, blasting the nigh invincible fighter back into the sky.

Muscles bulged, nearly crossing their retaining limit, storing massive amounts of ki. The electric crackle, an Ultra Saiyan form's courtesy, sailed after the Legendary's green trail, igniting once again in knuckles breaking the sound barrier. One burly arm shoved through Trunk's defenses, catching him square in the neck and reeling him about, leaving a side open for Broly to wail into. Ki flared, keeping Trunks conscious, helping to ignore the blinding pain and spittle forced from harsh gasps, giving him the strength to elbow the monstrous warrior's chin. Gripping the dazed Broly's arm, Trunks flipped overhead and delivered both heels square into his jaw, collapsing the air about them with a mighty crack. Broly replied in kind by gripping Trunks' ankles, diving for the ground and repeatedly throwing him into exposed bedrock.

Both fighters knew power, created it to sate their Saiyan blood, and pushed themselves beyond any known limitation. By hybrid blood, Trunks perfected ascending, as Broly's unstable form allowed limitless bursts. Sharp electric bolts collided against the sickly green barrier, as golden fists pushed through and began a titanic grip. Kicking free from Broly's hold, seeing by ki as blood covered an eye, Trunks crashed to a knee while holding back two mammoth hands vying to crush him. Crushed, kicked underfoot, cast aside by Androids, Cell, and even his own father. No, he would not yield this time, he would not give anymore ground to his reality's Legendary Super Saiyan. He would be the immovable barrier guarding the few lives against this unstoppable force, suffering each blow that threatened to split atoms, returning two-fold in kind.

_No more._

He did not know why Broly came, why he chose to attack earth, beyond whatever sadism plagued the man's heart.

_No more._

He did not know why his father was so reckless, arrogant, and incapable of learning what pride brought everyone time and time again, regardless of reality.

_No more. _

But he did know that there were those who words alone would not reach, and that as the armor to loved ones' hearts you had to keep fighting, keep pushing, and keep breaking anything that threatened their very existence. He knew that his aged mother lay in a sheltered hospital in critical condition after Broly's thunderous entry into the Earth's atmosphere. He knew that he, and only he, could stop this new apocalypse.

"NO! MORE!"

Ki surge, eliciting a pained and empowered growl, pushing an already embittered apocalypse survivor to the next level, nearly ripping muscle from bone as he dared ascend. As Super Saiyan Two gives power, and the Ultra form strength, he forced both to co-exist, bringing mass closer to that of Broly's. One man laughed, the other roared, and both pushed, blistering palms in a heated struggle to wrestle the other backwards. Ground heaved, rolling once by cascading shockwaves, cratering deeper and deeper. Anger replaced fatigue, vengeance overrode pain, and Trunks momentarily overshadowed Broly.

One step and legs buckled, nearly giving way to Broly's counter-shove. Another and ki almost overcharged, a risk to his body when the Ultra form inflated sinew to its breaking point. "You killed them!" If Trunks cried at that moment then no soul could have seen, for raging blood sang freely down both cheeks.

The man who single handedly purged a full quadrant, giving Lady Seto another reason to quarantine the entire area populated by Pseudo-Humans, Saiyans and Namekians, had been easily amused by another would-be hero giving theatrics. "That's it, runt. I want you angry when I break your spine."

Trunks did not hear the taunt. Saiyan rage and Human vengeance boiled over. Exploding ki pushed Broly's arms wide open, leaving the stunned murderer open for countless strikes. Amidst a mile wide golden glow, in its fiery white epicenter, Trunks gave it is all, shouldering through each counter blow and giving a warrior's prayer with each jab, kick and punch. Of all the realities where love conquers all, there is one where such emotions cannot exist without fighting, and to protect the ones you love you had to release anger as a devastating weapon. To have failed so many, allowing this destruction, when no one else could protect the Earth, fueled despair and ignited into hellish wrath. Anger, when well placed, pushed a warrior onward, aiding purpose and reminding him to seek redemption by punishing such monsters.

_Gohan. Mother. Even you, father. I do this for you._

A headbash knocked Broly back, giving the split second required to ignite pent up rage and ki. Asking forgiveness for relying on the same sort of rage that ended his father, Trunks reared back and screamed, feeling chest and arm muscles finally give way. "This time you die!" Before his body failed, the last remaining earthborn spirit pointed spread palms at the other Saiyan, testing the Legendary status by one last war cry. "FINAL FLASH!" Heavens split and atmosphere ruptured, Broly delivered into a neighboring planet. A scar hidden in his abdominals from King Vegeta's attempted execution split, releasing pent up ki as a thunderous explosion. Body burned, yet nonetheless intact, Broly floated past the world's exit wound, dazed until legendary power collected once more.

Did it work? He could not tell. Barely registering the sky above, not realizing he had fallen in a crumbled heap, Trunks began counting each beat as his heart slowed back to a nominal pace, no longer pounding against his rib-cage in the sepulcher of ascended flames. For a moment he lay there, built up ki briefly replacing the need to breath, and carefully channeled energy to re-hardened overstretched tendons and socket a dislocated shoulder. Rolling onto his front, braced by both elbows, he stretched up and tossed the Time Machine's capsule into the air.

]-0-[

He remembered that crying guitar, a horrified child becoming desensitized and rising to a hopeful peak, repeating so long as he chose the disc player to do so. It became his favorite song growing up. He hated any song with words, a reminder that someone once alive and happy copied their vocal essence into it, and listened to this apocalyptic yet hopeful theme, given part spoke that he felt no misery alone and that the future could be better. A wailing guitar, echoing and itself alone in thought but not in kindred spirit, a lone warrior fighting back the darkness that this music imposed upon it, just as he kept going, trained harder, and eventually defeated the androids. Unlike this music, he did not feel the victory and returning optimism when their chips shattered, only emptiness to reflect a world he saved too late.

So, he sat in his room, a shelter of reinforced steel and haphazardly placed supply crates, feeling no hunger as this Earth's technology prevented it, nor dirt for showers always worked, but emptiness as his life grew devoid of friends, father and mentor. No matter the generations after, the starting point of mixed Human and Saiyan blood will always carry through, superior in strength and heart, yet the later felt alone and the former could not excite its brother half-spirit. Just as the Human heart becomes discouraged when lacking strength to defend loved ones, the Saiyan heart will be depressed when its acquired Human half gives no drive to fight. So, he sat there, he listened, and let the music bring him back to confidence. Again he thanked Gohan for keeping his childhood decent, preventing the Androids' rampage from fully bringing him down, and shut off the disc given by the lost mentor.

Broly's rampage came a few months later.

That disc hadn't been removed from the pod the last time be used it. One last memento from a world breaking apart underfoot, beside the sword and a Capsule Corp jacket. Breathing became all the more difficult when sitting in a cramped compartment, a broken rib slowly becoming more than just an annoyance to battle-tested Saiyan blood. One eye not yet clenched in pain, or more so not swollen over from an oversized fist, found the counsel blinking urgently for coordinates, and he gave a cynical laugh hitting the Play button for the CD.

**_Hells Bells._**

That's what it had been called. A fitting name. A fitting farewell to his reality's earth. Slouched back, too dazed and shocked to truly understand the world's lava spewing death throws, he focused on that wailing guitar as the Machine lifted up into the air. Sure enough, the one who arrived out of bloodthirst, seeking to kill an already dead warrior who did him no true wrong, began to build power high up in the heavens. _Damn. He's not even weaker from that blast. _Not that it mattered. One more shot from Broly and the Earth's core would crack down the middle. **_"KAYOH!" _**he heard thundering from the behemoth. Kaio-ken? Kakarot choked out in insanity? It did not matter. The last Human and Saiyan bloodline of this reality blinked out of existence, gone before a green pillar descended to complete Armageddon.


End file.
